Carry Me, I Need to Rest

The hunched back, gray haired older woman walked slower
so she could help her son reach their destination.

"Momma, who died yesterday?"
"They say He was the Savior," the mother said crying.
"How did they kill Him, momma?
"They crucified Him, son," momma said,
laboring to walk up the steep hill.
"If He was God, how could they kill Him, momma?"
"He let them," she replied looking down shaking her head.
"He let them."

Approaching the blood stained cross the boy looked up.
"Why would they want to cru-ci-fy God?"
"Because mankind is wicked," the momma said looking at her boy.
The boy looked up at her, "We're not wicked."
His mother looked away. "I suppose we're the reason He died."

"I'm sorry you died for me" the boy said,
placing his hand on a blood stained spot of the cross.
"I'm sick and dying soon, it could have been me," the boy said.

The dark sky opened up and light shown through.
A voice from the heavens caused the old woman to tremble.
"Thank you my son...I needed the encouragement. You are healed!"
The boy smiled. "He listened to me momma."
The mother wrapped her arms around her boy and cried..."thank you!"

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